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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24603520">The Taming of Cerberus</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/protochronia/pseuds/protochronia'>protochronia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stitches On Patches AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), My Chemical Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Battery City, Cosmic Imbalance, Crossovers &amp; Fandom Fusions, Crowley visits Battery City, Demons, F-bombs, Gen, Ghosts, Good Omens / MCR Concept AU, Happy Ending, Pre-Danger Days, Prelude to The Code, Vampires</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:13:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24603520</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/protochronia/pseuds/protochronia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All he wanted was to get his Angel some books, but someone's gone and fractured the fabric of dimensional space... in the city Crowley's vacationing in. He has to figure out a way to solve it, in order to save his own name, and the town (but don't tell anybody that), but especially to see Aziraphale again.</p><p>- AKA-</p><p>Crowley finds himself in a cosmic pickle.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stitches On Patches AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1778590</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The View Outside Is Sterile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prelude to "The Code". This is the adventure Crowley tells Aziraphale about after things settle down at home.</p><p>Concepts from all the MCR albums have been transformed into a psychic kid and his strange, terrifying life (there will be no apologies).</p><p>Crowley just has to get through the insanity.</p><p>Enjoy x</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He wasn’t quite awake, which always managed to terrify him. Low echos of nondescript chanting pervaded his senses, ending in sharp, high points. Somehow, the fog that carried these sounds was fracturing. He couldn’t make himself scream.</p><p>Finally, a gasp, and he’s upright. It takes some time to breathe right.</p><p>The white eyes of the solitary ghost match their hair. They wear a black and white uniform that doesn’t catch or reflect any light, like the rest of them. From the corner of the room, they speak without moving.</p><p>“Morning, sunshine. Coffee?”</p><p>The twenty-something exhaled, and methodically removed his blankets. </p><p>He shuffled by the ghost, and said, “I’ll get it.”</p><p>Eyes that have never been there before blinked into the early morning. As they multiplied and gathered some semblance of bodily forms, sounds of a coffee machine whirred from the kitchen.</p><p>The pale ghost blinked, “Sup, guys. Fredric. You met Caleb.” What the hell is this?</p><p>No answer, except for a low grumbling. But they were soon shooed away. Fredric went to the open balcony that let the air into the bedroom. Towering, smoky skeletal figures loped slowly in the distance, above shops and houses. One, they could barely see in the city haze, was bending down to get a better look at the boardwalk.</p><p>What the fucking shit.</p><p>“Hey, Caleb!"</p><p>—</p><p>A long, angular hand quiets a string quartet of T Swift’s “Trouble”. Crowley groaned and rolled onto his back, in the middle of party debris. He checked the clock and date before sliding the phone into his breast pocket. The bar would soon be entered by the next unfortunate human, he should leave.</p><p>After a moment to clear his head, Crowley stood and turned towards the back exit. Tiny lights hung in the air. They were looking at him.</p><p>“Fuck’s sake, Crowley, what’d you do?” A short, irritated, dark haired demon peered out the front windows. Huge, foggy light orbs peered back at them, bobbing in a shadowy, angle-skewed head.</p><p>“Do what, exactly, and with what, exactly?” Crowley snapped. He did not need to be blamed for something as moronic as this… whatever this was. “W-It’s past morning, it’s not even— ghosts don’t even have a chance beyond dawn.” </p><p>“Ghosts?!”</p><p>“Of c- Look at them! They aren’t ever noticed except by hallucination. And they’re physical, somehow.” The fact he was fascinated paled in comparison to the way he was completely creeped out.</p><p>Crowley was only in this town because he’d needed to acquire an antique cookbook from some stingy human in LA. To cover it, he scrambled the home invasions system of the well-to-do neighborhood, disappeared every single door handle, and made off with a few treasures. A few people almost shot each other. Hell would probably just roll their eyes at the failure. Hopefully.</p><p>The other Demon, Lorn, or something-or-other, took orders from Ashtareth, who ran Hell’s American Offices. They were just as ruthless as his own home office, but a bit more off their rockers, and so Crowley scrambled to put together a coherent line of thought in order to clear his name and a way to level the situation. If he couldn’t, then he could never go anywhere near Aziraphale ever again.</p><p>Lorn glared at him until they were sure Crowley wasn’t putting them on.</p><p>“Fuck you’re gonna do about it?” They stepped away from the window, only to come face to face with a semi-formed shadow. “Get out my city, smokey!”</p><p>The shadow screamed.</p><p>Crowley stopped himself from laughing and then blessed under his breath. “I’m going to find out where it’s coming from, obviously.” He exited towards the boardwalk, saying, “Have fun.”</p><p>“Not if I get there first.” Lorn inched around the shadow and made his way out the back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Starless Eyes For Heaven's Sake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rooftops east of the city were flat and close together, perfect for a stroll to the place Caleb went to smoke.</p><p>He left Fredric making the most of his old piano, pounding out a progressive riot in G minor while yell-singing, “—I can’t control myself because I dON’T kNOW hOW, AND THEY LOVE ME FOR IT HONESTLY I’LL—“ Sometimes his screws were a little loose. </p><p>Fifteen minutes in, a glimmer catches Caleb’s eye. On someone else’s patio, a man with large, ember-spotted wings and smoldering halo stared right at him. Caleb stared back for bit, but then turned away, face carefully unchanged. He didn’t want to panic, but usually seeing things was a sign that he was on his way to a downward spiral. He’d learned that Fredric either didn’t count, or maybe he was just always on a low level of psychosis. </p><p>Tall shadows mill in the distance. Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t…</p><p>Lorn sees his best target look away from him with a straight face. Culturally, it was par for the course, so it didn’t bother them. Yet the pure, luring power coming off him led the Demon to believe he had something to do with everything going to shit. Lorn hadn’t seen him before, but the psychic energy had been growing again lately. Generally, Humans were pretty low on the list of things they cared about, as they were the butt of everyone’s jokes. How they persisted so long, with such a short lifespan, was one such joke. Before it had the chance to make Lorn feel anything more about it, they distracted themself.</p><p>They checked their phone again. The first notification they’d set for a couple keywords showed up. </p><p>It was a short video of a hundred orbs on the afternoon beach, the clearest video of the ghosts they’d seen so far. The orbs didn’t have shadows, and didn’t appear to do much except bob around. Then they heard Crowley’s smooth voice, talking to someone off screen.</p><p>“D’you know anything ‘bout this sort of thing?”</p><p>A couple girls’ giggles and aww’s made their eyebrow raise. Apparently, he was getting to work. Then there came an answer, from a male, they thought.</p><p>“Dude there’s a bunch of haunted—“</p><p>The video cut off. For Satan’s sake.</p><p>Lorn angrily put the phone away and looked back to their target, lounging in the shade of someone’s air system. Smoke floated around them. </p><p>In a blink, the Demon was there, sitting beside the human.</p><p>Caleb simply turned his head, too grassed to do much else. “Who’re you?”</p><p>“That’s what I’m asking you, friend.” Black eyes dug into him.</p><p>He couldn’t tell if he spoke and forgot about it. “Caleb.” </p><p>An offer was made, and taken. “Lorn.”</p><p>“Gotta tell you, Lorn. Never seen someone spliced with a dying fire.”</p><p>Lorn coughed. Then coughed harder. When they cleared their throat, they were still incredulous. “You can fucking see that? How?”</p><p>Caleb shook his head. “Dunno. Freak brain mutation, probably.”</p><p>“What about your psychic shit?”</p><p>“Psychic? No, man, it—it just means I can’t tell. Y’know. Real stuff from brain stuff.”</p><p>“Satan, you really don’t know.” Lorn was always fed up with Humans for exactly this reason. Their near constant confusion just made Demon’s jobs easy. And boring. And frustrating.</p><p>“What’s Satan got to do with it?”</p><p>Lorn looked at him hard, embers extra smoldering, eyes extra inky. “Satan our Lord and Master who rules the Earth.”</p><p>Caleb’s eyes widened. Then he laughed. “Alright, alright.” </p><p>The ringing in Caleb’s ears assaulted him, just then. The same chanting he’d heard that morning came back to him. He held his ears down as hard as he could, but the voices were taking over his other senses. Physically, he started to vibrate, almost fading in and out of the dimension—that is, he would be if the dimensions were further apart. But they weren’t, were they.</p><p>Lorn put his hands over Caleb’s and willed him to stay solid. It started working, once Caleb could look the Demon in the eyes. </p><p>Taking terror for comfort, their presence steadied him. Yet, another part of Caleb spiraled down into panic. The more he succeeded in stillness, the less confidence he had in his own brain, because Lorn still looked the same. He switched hand placements and held on as he plummeted.</p><p>The space immediately around the two started to fluctuate.</p><p>“Caleb? C—HEY!” The Demon had no idea how to respond. So they put Caleb into a deep sleep, and took him back to where he came from. They could lock up his place, and hole up in it. Sit on this egg until the ghosts vanished. And when that happened, well. They couldn’t leave a cosmic conduit alive, especially an unwitting one, could they? Satan knows they weren’t about to teach a human how physics worked.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. If They Get Me, Take This Spike</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two Demons stand over Caleb, who’d been sleeping for about an hour.</p><p>“No, I’m saying that all humans are psychic. Gonna kill the planet without our Master, are we?”</p><p>“It’s one fucking human, why the heaven should I let him live?”</p><p>“Because he’s insane, but his soul’s not in our court. Let him suffer and fall, s’what I’m saying. It’s what we do, isn’t it.”</p><p>“Oh, right. Fall. Yeah. So, what should I do?”</p><p>“Bless, Lorn, just wake him up and fuck off.”</p><p>The red haired Demon stormed out of the apartment. Fredric flinched as he watched the one called Lorn get out their aggression in the air over Caleb, sparks and all, but didn’t actually touch his friend.</p><p>Finally, Lorn grumbled, snapped their fingers upward, and turned for the balcony. </p><p>“You’re all going to burn… just like me…” they mumbled.</p><p>Caleb’s eyes caught a blurry, ember-winged figure jump off the ledge and disappear. Could’ve sworn it looked back at him for a moment, in hate and agony. They were shining with it.</p><p>When it was just him and Caleb, Fredric made himself visible.</p><p>“How’d I get here?” Caleb rubbed his head.</p><p>Pause. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”</p><p>“You know that basically makes me worry about it.”</p><p>“Yeah, sorry…”</p><p>“Man, today is weirder than usual. I’m gonna get some air.” Caleb peels himself from the bed and locks up, taking one last look at the towering creatures as Fredric quietly slips from view.</p><p>-</p><p>Crowley stalks down the street, avoiding the ghosts where he can. He’s scrolling through hashtags that talk about hauntings. Apparently, the most haunted places in the city are in the North Woods.</p><p>One particularly well-formed ghost, though they appeared like a twitchy and blotchy TV image, screeched in his face. It sounded worse than a Banshee, which was extremely difficult. </p><p>It took a good, long moment to process. But then, Crowley thought of bees, and remembered what he was doing. He turned around and headed for the forest.</p><p>-</p><p>Barely anyone was out, which made the corner coffee shop actually seem inviting. However, so was the woman, about his age, siting at the window. She had dark eyes and a classic white cappuccino cup. They smiled at each other for a moment. Then she wrote something on a napkin and held it up.</p><p>‘Hi.’</p><p>Caleb waved. She wrote something else.</p><p>‘Coffee?’</p><p>Somehow, he got himself in the door.</p><p>Her name was Nadia.</p><p>Some time later, they walked back to her house in the North Woods. She’s an artist with paints and mixed media statements. The place is sizable but near empty, save for the studio overlooking the forest, which is well stocked with various materials.</p><p>Caleb marveled at the art. Some of it could be worn. They put on some pieces, made up characters, and improvised small plays. Caleb sat at the piano while Nadia threw wet, red clay at a concrete statue of a severe face.</p><p>They don’t see Fredric, but Fredric has to step outside. It’s nearing dusk, and the less formed ghosts are out here in abundance. Lost. Confused, despite the relative peacefulness of the area. It must have been so different for them, where they were before. Whatever was going on, it was disrupting both dimensions considerably. That world was open to Fredric, but he’d chosen to stick by Caleb because the boy was alone, in more ways than one. </p><p>Fitting, really, that he’d managed to befriend Nadia, of all people. Well, ghosts. But it was better than nothing, wasn’t it? …Wasn’t it?</p><p>The Demon with red hair passed behind the tree line, a ways down the lane. He traveled alone.</p><p>Fredric looked back to Caleb and Nadia. Satisfied they’d be alright, he followed the Demon, keeping some distance and a measure of silence. They hadn’t noticed him, before.</p><p>Ten minutes of them wandering around the forest, and the Demon finally stopped and licked the air.</p><p>“Might as well, ‘know it’s you. ….You were in the boy’s room.” The being turned around, waiting.</p><p>Fredric stepped out, not sure he should make himself plainly visible yet. So, he let his steps have some weight. That centered the being’s attention, at least.</p><p>“So. Seen any witch covens around lately?” </p><p>The ghost chuckled. “What, dead ones?”</p><p>“Mh. Well, someone’s fucking with Limbo. What do you know?”</p><p>“You’re a Demon, why the hell would you care?”</p><p>Crowley gently took off his glasses, eyes gold and glowing, staring him in the face though he couldn’t exactly see him. His voice became harder. “Because I would like to fucking know, are we going to have a problem.”</p><p>Because, for whatever reason, this Demon kept Lorn from killing Caleb, Fredric whispers, “Careful… Vamps in these woods.” He disappeared back to the house.</p><p>Crowley cursed in such a way that almost anyone else would think he was giving a particularly passionate sermon. </p><p>Vampires were descended from Celestials that mixed with the Fae, and therefore were very powerful and intuitive. They could also hold a grudge to challenge God Herself. To make things worse, Demons and Vampires had a no-fire law with each other because both parties preyed on Humanity. Yet, as things were, the mightier-than-thous would be investigating sooner rather than later. They’d blow the whole place off the map when they found out Vamps were involved. It’d destroy this part of Limbo as well, and, even though you’d think Limbo and Earth would heal, that just wasn’t true. It needed to be realigned. The pure-cultured Celestials just wouldn’t get it. More, though, they wouldn’t bat an eye.</p><p>“Ssshhhhhhhhit.”</p><p>Sun setting, the Demon quieted as much movement as he could and about glided deeper into the forest. He had to register, rather than sense, everything around him— if he used his senses, he’d be noticed. It was like constantly turning a blind corner, your reflexes had to be well-formed. </p><p>Eventually, he found a den, a well kept seasonal cabin. Crowley hid in the wide trees and listened passively. What he could hear were bits and phrases like, “Hecate’s power”, “leave them all in dust”, and “make our escape”. They laughed like children who shouldn’t be laughing. </p><p>They weren’t new, nobody new left their own Order’s boundaries for centuries. They had their own quite effective magic abilities, so there was no use using an Icon like Hecate unless they needed to remain under cover to pull off their escape. Worst, though, was the fact they knew what trouble would try to find them and eliminate the area. They expected to be gone by then. Probably presumed dead as well.</p><p>The boundaries to several different dimensions were all smushed together, so where would they even want to go? It wasn’t bloody well a stroll in the park.</p><p>But, he remembered, they were using Hecate like an Icon. Ancient beings had ancient knowledge, but he was far, far older. He knew what gods were actually like. How they were built. </p><p>Crowley carefully made his way back into town. After stopping a few places for supplies, he returned to his fancy hotel. The door he willed to close and lock behind him, and the dining table to scoot to the center of the room. He laid his items on it like he was about to assemble a computer… however humans did that.</p><p>This would not be a miracle. He could not use Hell’s magic as a source, or be tracked by it. This had to be just him. The good news was that he could build an Icon in an instant, compared to the centuries it took civilizations to flesh one out and travel with it.</p><p>He used to build stars, after all. This had to work.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. My Way Home Is Through You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley about collapsed on the floor in front of the self-assembled effigy. It started to spark and glow with the kind of lights that Humans had never dreamed of being able to see. The hotel’s electricity breaker almost broke just from the radiation.</p><p>He had called Her by the deepest cosmic names he could think of, by the names that meant ‘superstring’ and ‘dark matter’ (because Crowley knew exactly what dark matter was). He had called Her ‘time’, and ‘translator’, and ‘adaptation’. There were many ineffable things he called Hecate, but this is what he said:</p><p>“Dammo, Damnomeneia, Damasandra, Damnodamia…”</p><p>From the floor, Crowley started hallucinating. He couldn’t make much sense of it, far too many elements and variables flying around to comprehend one at a time.</p><p>Talking to an Icon wasn’t like talking to any other being, even God. It wasn’t a conversation, it was an experience. Just as well, all the harder for others to read his mind of it, even other Demons. He knew something was happening with him, but he had to wait until the message was delivered. All things considered, it was more pleasant than whenever Hell planted screeching thoughts in his mind.</p><p>When it was over, the lights of the statue dimmed and remained in a quiet glow. Crowley breathed for several minutes, letting everything sink in. Then he had an idea. As he walked back out of the hotel, he thought almost manically that his Angel would never believe a word of this.</p><p>-</p><p>Lorn stopped scrolling through social media when he spotted posts about a large bonfire party in the desert outside of town. Sun gone from the sky, they’d taken video of towering flames and rock and roll music. Humans were dancing, drinking, and lighting off fireworks. Playing with some sort of lasers, wearing masks.</p><p>He hated them. He hated all of them. He burned his own bar to the ground and made himself a bed inside the flames.</p><p>The firemen couldn’t put it out. The flames seemed to be alive, and biting severely the ones not too afraid of trying to find the source of unnatural screaming coming from within.</p><p>-</p><p>“That’s beautiful music, Caleb. How long have you been playing?” Nadia, curled up on a large comfortable chair, sipped from a large, chunky coffee cup. Her feet covered in fuzzy socks. It was the picture of soft.</p><p>“End of high school. After my aunt died.” Caleb shifted on the bench, head beginning to feel a bit funny. The sounds of the piano still echoed in his bones, somewhat comforting.</p><p>“Is it for her?”</p><p>He paused. “It’s for the Moon. They’re all up there, really. Before they’re sewn back into the Earth. Some say, anyway.”</p><p>Nadia smiled and considered it. She really did like him. She hoped they could visit again. The air had been strange lately, a lot more ghosts appeared over the last few days. Just as if they were in a movie, walking around like they had places to be. When she saw Caleb, she thought he looked a little lost, though cute. Also that maybe ghosts liked coffee, too.</p><p>“What a lovely thought. I’m sorry about your aunt.”</p><p>“Thanks. I… uh, ow, Jesus…!” The man hit the piano on his way to the floor.</p><p>“Caleb?!” Nadia abandoned her drink and sunk beside her friend, be he was already starting to waver. Some sort of energy fluctuated around him. She couldn’t get to him at first, it was painful to breach whatever covered him. But her hands found him to be more solid than she expected. Soon, he was in her arms.</p><p>“Caleb, look at me!” Her hands tried to soothe his face, his arms. Then, his hands caught hers.</p><p>“What is it? What’s going on?”</p><p>Caleb could barely focus. “Chanting… they’re chanting again…”</p><p>“Who’s chanting? Who’s doing this to you?"</p><p>Suddenly, he thought she had gorgeous eyes.</p><p>“Dunno. Ack… It’s not for me. They’re not talking to me. They’re just… fucking barking, god fuck, Nadia…” He was getting worse, face twisting.</p><p>“No, no, no, no… Caleb! Caleb, listen, you’re the only one who gets to tell you what to do! Do you hear me? Look at me. Look.”</p><p>Caleb breathed, with some difficulty. Yet he was looking.</p><p>-</p><p>A thunk on a nearby tree interrupted four hooded creatures in the middle of rounds of chanting. They all stopped when a heavy sphere of light landed in the exact center of their Alchemist Circle. Massive amounts of energy poured from it, into the circle, and into the creatures. They gasped aloud, horrified and indignant by something only they could see and feel. Every dislodged soul, every ripped and torn consciousness, every scream of cosmic energy as it was being forced into an altered state. It all became theirs.</p><p>Silence took over the night. It was clear they had made some horrible mistake that would turn out gruesome for them. Not to mention others, because they often felt that others were less than they. However, that was beginning to change.</p><p>The orb of light, now spent, seemed to made of an impossible fusion of lapis and actual gold. It wasn’t Heavenly, and it wasn’t Demonic. Someone else had come with a vengeance. It dawned on them that perhaps it was indeed Hecate, sick of their stupidity. Or, someone from their Order…</p><p>The group scrambled to wipe clean the circle they were using, and began to draw a new one on the Earth.</p><p>-</p><p>Sunlight slowly warmed the air and concrete of the city, resting peacefully where it landed. Streets empty, only a salty breeze was felt rolling, rustling leaves and morning birds.</p><p>Caleb blinked open tired eyes to find Nadia curled up beside him. Some time during the night, she’d covered them with a blanket. He didn’t remember much— the kind of not-remembering that happened when he’d had a particularly awful night. Yet the rest was like soft light and warm summer.</p><p>From the chair, Fredric smiled at him thoughtfully. All he wanted was for Caleb to carry onward. Perhaps he’d introduce himself to Nadia, in a way that wouldn’t jar her carefully crafted reality. He had a feeling, though, that it wouldn’t be difficult.</p><p>-</p><p>“Vandalized security systems of uptown neighborhood. Houses looted. Chaos and violence ensued. More Humans en route to Our Master. Rogue Vampires opened Hecate’s Gates. They were persuaded to reconsider. Gates closed officially at 4:07am local time. —AJC, Battery City, USA, June 2006”</p><p>Crowley signed his paperwork with his real name, a sigil written in Hellfire, and disappeared it to his home office. Beelzebub’s flies were going to drop out of the sky.</p><p>Carefully, the Demon packed a bag of a few antique books, some tourist trinkets he’d stolen from the boardwalk, and one statue. With a snap, he erased himself from hotel records.</p><p>At last, he took a breath and miracle’d himself home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you've gotten this far... congrats! This was a long time coming, but what with the final uprising amidst an apocalypse and all, well. So if no one gets here, that's okay, too. Because fuck Nazis.</p><p>Rest, but never, ever stop.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! x</p></blockquote></div></div>
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